Clocks
by Waiting-for-a-mad-man-in-221b
Summary: Klaine AU. Based on this post, . tumblr . com/post/32987126324/spookynerdwp-keep-it-ugly-punk Soulmate!AU.


"Today is the day." Blaine says flatly as he stares at himself, his mirror tells him what he already knows. He's terrified. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are a few shades paler than his regular healthy glow. In 5 hours 34 minutes and 6 seconds he will meet his soul mate, the person he will spend the rest of his life with. How the hell does someone prepare for that?

He fixes his hair, gelling it back, but not as cemented to his head as usual. He puffs up the front a little bit, adding a little flare. He's not sure if he likes it, but hopefully she will. He had his best pants and shirt pressed last week; he pulls them out and slips into them carefully before securing his favorite blue and red bowtie around his neck. He has to tie it three times before he deems it perfect.

He grabs his brown leather messenger bag before heading out his door. He heads to work for the last time as a free man. When he gets home tonight he'll have a… what would he have? A girlfriend? There wasn't really such thing anymore. Not since the clocks came around.

Blaine was five years old when clocks became mainstream. It used to be that only the rich could afford them, but then started the craze and soon everybody wanted one. They started to become more available for the middle class, and soon even the poorest of people could get a low end one. So by the time Blaine turned 7 he had a nice silver clock on the inside of his wrist that read, 7345d 07h 43m 09s. Clocks are thin plates, long ovals that lay flat on the inside of your wrist. There are two small hooks on either end that you insert into your skin, that's how they stay connected and that's how they can tell when you'll meet your soul mate. They come in a bunch of different styles and colors. Some are just plain plastic; those are the low end ones. Most of them are stainless steel. The rich usually get silver or gold. Some of them can be really ornate, with beautiful patterns etched into the metal.

Blaine's is just silver.

He wonders what his soul mate's will be like?

He guesses he'll find out today.

Kurt empties half of the bottle of hairspray onto his head. He's finally gotten the perfect twist on his hair and he needs to make sure it stays that way for the next, he checks his wrist, 5 hours 3 minutes and 21 seconds.

By the time he's all dressed he's shaking. He's never shaken this bad before, not even when he was coming out to his dad, even though ever since the clocks came around people had realized that no, being gay was not a choice. He was still terrified then, as he's terrified now.

He doesn't know why he's terrified. I mean that's nuts right? This is the person that's supposed to love you unconditionally. What's so terrifying about that? Maybe it's the mystery, and the build up of it all. He's only know this day was coming for 21 years. He's known that he would meet whoever this man was on January 6th, 2020.

At least he hopes it's a man.

Blaine takes his lunch break early. All of his office friends stare at him, giving him nods of encouragement as he steps into the elevator. He appreciates it, but it doesn't do much to calm his nerves. Something about finding out who the woman he's going to eventually marry today just doesn't seem right. Maybe he's a romantic, but he wishes that he could have been surprised, instead he's had these looming digits secured into his flesh, glaring at him for the past 20ish years.

He shouldn't feel that way towards he clocks. The clocks are supposed to put your mind at ease. They're supposed to be comforting; saying, yes, you do have a soul mate out there, if you just wait a little while longer.

He checks his clock, 7minutes 26 seconds. He ducks into the flower shop just down the block from his work. He picks up the first thing that catches his eye, thinking if he likes it then she must right? He pays for the large arrangement of red and yellow roses and leaves the shop feeling even more nervous then he had before.

He doesn't know what drags him to the little café across the street, well ok, he can guess. He finds himself ordering a medium drip, but then he also finds himself ordering a grande nonfat mocha. So this soul mate stuff must not be a crack after all, he thinks. He finds a table near the back with only 2 minutes 13 seconds left. He looks at everyone, searching for a woman who looks just as frightened as him, but he doesn't find her.

He sips his coffee slowly. Peeking at the time on his wrist every time he takes a gulp. 1 minute 37 seconds left.

1 minute and 24 seconds left and he's in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. Sue him for thinking their meeting would be more romantic. He stops suddenly, like there is a wall in front of him, forbidding him to move any further. He finds his feet dragging him into a coffee shop. See now this he can get into.

He looks around him nervously. What if he's not what they expected? What if who ever they are is disappointed? Kurt can't lie and say that this worry hasn't crossed his mind before. But now it's real and the feeling is magnified about a thousand times.

He checks his clock, 32 seconds. He starts weaving through the tables of people, _couples_. There are a lot of couples here. And that's when he notices, towards the back, a man sitting by himself; a man with a bouquet of red and yellow roses, with two cups of coffee in front of him. His leg bobbing so fiercely Kurt's sure it's making the whole place shake, but he can't tell because he's already so dizzy, because this guy is _beautiful_.

Then he checks his clock and there is 6 seconds left and he knows he is going to be at that table by the end of those 6 seconds, but he's not sure how because his legs have decided not to work anymore. And he's staring but he doesn't care, because this is his _soul mate. _This is the man he will marry; this is the man who he will live out his dreams with, who he'll start a family with. And the sudden finality of it all is almost too much, but in a very good way. And he has 3 seconds to make it to that table. His legs finally catch up with his brain and he's all but sprinting to the little wooden table for two.

Blaine looks up then. He meets the man's gaze, as he stands over him, breathless, cheeks tinted red. He checks his clock. It reads 0000d 00h 00m 00s. _What?_ _No…what? _

"Y-you-" He tries to stutter out, but his mind is mush at the moment. How could he- no he isn't gay. Is he? Am I? And with his brain overheating, he can't stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth. "But I'm not gay." And he can't even explain to you in words how awful he feels as soon as he says it, because _Jesus fucking Christ Blaine you weren't supposed to say that out loud. _

His soul mate's (who he hasn't even bothered to learn his mane yet) face crumbles. His brilliant smile drops from his mouth and his eyes. His bottom lip starts to tremble, and god does Blaine just want to punch himself, but all he can do is sit there and watch. Frozen with guilt and… something else. _Realization_.

Kurt turns and runs before he starts to cry. No, he won't give him that satisfaction.

God he _knew _this would happen. Kurt Hummel doesn't get happy endings. He should have known this would be no different. 3 seconds of hope, and love, and a future, torn out from under him, in just 3 more seconds. And he knew he wouldn't want him, and that he wouldn't be what he was expecting. Though it had never even crossed his mind that his soul mate would be _straight_. No that was just icing on the fucking cake.

He finds and empty bench five blocks from the coffee shop where he collapses. He hangs his head in his hands and starts sobbing. His one chance at love, and happiness is back in that café probably still sputtering over his words. And Kurt can't help but feel a little bad for him because he wasn't expecting this either. He'd thought he'd be walking out of there with a woman on his arm to bring home to his proud parents, and to show off to his friends. Instead he got a guy, and Kurt could understand how that could be a shock to someone's system. But it didn't make the rejection hurt any less.

"Did you see which way he went?" He asks the woman at the table to his left. She'd been watching the whole exchange. Hopefully she'd seen which way he ran out.

"He went right. Hurry," she instructed, "and don't stop until you find him." Blaine smiled at her thankfully and took off, tucking the roses under his arm, careful not to squish them though. He dodged through the thousands of people crowding the sidewalk, looking everywhere for him. He got four blocks away from the café before he stared losing hope. He could have gotten on a bus, or a subway, or he could have gotten in a cab.

But his feet just kept pushing him further, pounding into the sidewalk. He pushed people out of his way, as gently as he could. He needed to find him before he disappeared for what could be forever.

And then he saw him, well more like he saw his royal blue pea coat. He nearly got run over by a cab as he ran across the intersection, but he escaped (barely) and started slowing down his run to a jog. By the time he made it to the bench his breath was coming out in short, painful spurts, and his heart was beating so hard he wouldn't be surprised if it had exploded. He didn't know if it was more because of the running or because of _him_.

He knelt down in front of him on the filthy sidewalk, not caring that he was ruining his best pants. He just needed to make it up to him, to show him that he's not really that much of an asshole.

"I'm so sorry."

Kurt's head snaps up, snapping back down only a few seconds after he saw whom it was kneeling in front of him. A warm hand touched his chin, gently coaxing it up, so that he was looking into his soul mates eyes.

"I can't even explain to you… I just had no idea-I wasn't expecting-but then I realized why this never felt right to me. But you were already gone. I'm so sorry."

Kurt's not sure he's ever seen more sincerity in his life. And now he really feels bad because what if he had gotten in to a cab and never given him a chance? He's just confused, and god Kurt you of all people should know how hard it is when you realize you're not who you thought you were, you're not like everyone else. This is your soul mate, you're supposed to help each other, not run when it gets too hard.

The man holds out the roses to him. Kurt takes them tentatively. He runs his fingers over one of the petals. They're beautiful.

"I'm sorry for running," he chokes out finally. So much relief floods the other mans eyes as he starts laughing slightly and shaking his head.

"Oh god, don't be sorry. I'm sorry I'm such an asshole, and _god _I don't even know your _name _yet. I'm Blaine" Kurt can't help it then. He laughs, letting the final defenses that he had put up down, because god, Blaine is fucking adorable. And he's _his. _The thought sends butterflies free and fluttering in his stomach.

"Kurt," he says, he takes the hand that has yet to leave his chin, and slots their fingers together. He revels in how perfect they fit together. "Kurt Hummel."


End file.
